Curdle
by Emma CS Me
Summary: Puck had said "I don't need help," even when he turned up bleeding and almost-crying on Finn's doorstep at 2 AM. A year later, he still needs the help - and Finn is still slightly incompetent. COMPLETE.
1. Prelude

**A/N:** Written for the **glee_angst_meme**, the prompt: "Puck's mom has an on again off again boyfriend who abuses him sexually. Now they're on again and said boyfriend has moved into their house. After the last time they broke up, when Puck thought he was gone for good, he told Finn about the abuse."

**

* * *

1: PRELUDE**

Finn didn't understand Puck. May never have done so. He came closer to it with certain events; good and bad, but he never quite got there.

One of these events was last summer. It was two AM and Finn was sound asleep, only to be woken but by a rock flying through his window and hitting him in the head.

"Oww," he whined, before pulling himself out of bed, to figure who the hell was throwing rocks at him at two AM. He was a bit confused when he saw his mohawked best friend lingering down there, looking down.

"Puck?" Finn asked, and barely saw Puck's nod.

"Let me in, dude," he said, and Finn had to go to the front door to comply.

"Okay, if you wake my mom up, I will be forced to kick your ass into winter, but whatever it is… Holy shit," he trailed off when he got a closer look at Puck. He was a mess. His eyes were puffy and red like he'd been crying – since when did Puck let _anyone_ see him crying? – his clothes were dishevelled, his mohawk messed up and sticking up at odd angles, there seemed to be blood on him, and he kept pulling his body toward him like he was scared it may crumble and fall on the carpet.

"Puck?" he asked, as if he couldn't believe this wreck he was seeing was actually his best friend. Puck raised one of his odd trademark half-smiles.

"Hey dude," he said, and fell more than stepped inside. Finn actually caught him, feeling how Puck went stiff and rigid at being touched.

Puck pulled away quickly. "Don't catch me, man; I'm not a girl," he said, bright tone somewhat undercut by the sniffle that followed.

"Sorry. But… dude, are you okay?" Finn asked, and Puck didn't answer. Finn watched as a drop of blood made it's way off Puck's jeans, and onto Finn's mom's carpet. "Dude, you're bleeding on the floor; my mom will kill me."

Puck looked down to see the stain the blood was quickly forming. "Oh," he said, sounding distracted. Finn thought the stain kind of looked like an elephant. A very small elephant.

Puck stumbled away, and managed to collapse onto Finn's couch. He curled up in the foetal position, without seeming to notice it, but that just made Finn more worried. He slowly braced himself and walked over to the couch, sitting beside Puck, and not missing the way his best friend recoiled when he got closer. "Dude, what's going on?" Finn asked with as gently as he could. It wasn't very gentle, but points for trying.

"Last opportunity," Puck muttered into the sofa covering.

"What?" Finn asked. "Dude, you're freaking me out."

Puck snorted a little. "Sorry. This was stupid, I just..." his voice trailed off, and he looked down. "My mom broke up with her boyfriend," he said.

Finn blinked. "Again?" he asked nonchalantly. "Wait, this kind of doesn't explain the crying and the bleeding and the throwing rocks at me at two AM."

"They're done for good this time. He knows it. And I wasn't crying," Puck said, slapping Finn on the arm. "It's just... complicated. I shouldn't be here."

"Dude, what's up? If you are showing up _now_, there is something freaking wrong. You're scaring me," Finn said, and looked at the blood Puck was now slowly dripping onto the couch. "Did he like, hit you or something? Because that dude is creepy; it wouldn't surprise me."

"No dude. He didn't hit me," Puck said, smirking strangely on 'hit me', as if it was some kind of a joke Finn just wasn't getting.

The two boys paused for a few seconds, while Finn tried to collect an idea of what to say. "Then... what?"

Puck laughed bitterly. "You're an idiot," he said, and while Finn was about to protest, Puck curled into his side. "Shut your mouth," he said before Finn could get a word out. "You point out how gay this is, I will kick your ass."

Finn nodded, confused. Still, he snaked an arm around Puck's back, rubbing circles slowly like he had been taught to with crying babies. Wait, did someone actually teach him that? Anyway. "Puck, just tell me what's going on. If I don't have a good reason there's blood all over the lounge room my mother will destroy me."

"Last opportunity," Puck muttered again, and it didn't make any more sense this time. "That's what he said."

Finn blinked a few more times. "Wait, dude, I don't get it. Would you just, like, explain?"

Puck's mouth formed a tight, white line. "Check where the blood is coming from," he said.

Finn looked over, and tried to follow the blood. There wasn't that much, but what was there rather clearly led back to Puck's ass. Finn frowned and looked away, stupidly paranoid about Puck thinking he was looking there, even if he was only doing it because Puck himself said.

It took a few more moments for the realization to hit; more him to turn back to Puck, jaw gaping. Finn was stupid and naive, but even he wasn't that stupid and naive – even though he really wanted to be right now – and he could kind of guess what would make Puck bleed from _there_, what would make him come around at two AM all teary-eyed and not-walking-right.

"Dude. No way," he said, shocked and shaking his head. "Puck, c'mon, man, these things wouldn't _happen_ to you," he repeatedly insisted, not really believing it, or realizing the implications of those words.

"Well sorry if it's like, inconvenient or something," Puck snapped, sharply bringing Finn back to reality.

"Oh, uh... sorry?" he offered weakly. Puck didn't answer, just squirmed a bit and wriggled closer. "Have you told your mom?"

Puck snorted. "No. Haven't for the four years we've known the bastard, no reason to change it now."

Something in Finn's brain snapped as he fought desperately to control his gag reflex. "You mean... he's done this to you before...?"

"Not quite this. Different. Just, y'know, less. I mean, he'd... but he'd never take it all the way; like he was saving me for later or some shit. But, I mean, there isn't gonna be a later now, so..." Puck trailed off, shivering a little.

"Dude, should I take you to like, a hospital or something?"

"I'm not hurt."

"You're bleeding, dude."

"Whatever."

"Are you going to tell your mom?" Finn asked. "Or, y'know, anyone?"

"What did I just say? No."

"I think you should."

"I didn't ask you to think," Puck snapped at him, body going rigid again. But he didn't move. "If I told Mom? It'd kill her. Either she'd be ashamed of me for letting it happen, or she'd wanna kill herself for bringing that bastard into our house. Depends what mood she's in, but she's never exactly Miss Sunshine-and-Lollipops after she's split from a guy, so I'm not taking a chance."

"Puck-"

"Do _not_ try and convince me, dude. This is just us; you know, to the grave."

Finn sighed. He knew that it was pretty much hopeless to convince Puck of _anything_; especially anything that might threaten his badass-ness.

"Okay, fine," he reluctantly agreed. "I reckon you're crazy, but fine."

Puck smiled sadly. "Thanks dude," he said, body loosening up again, and he curled into Finn's side tighter. Yeah, somewhere at the back of Finn's mind he _was_ kind of aware of how gay this looked, but that really wasn't the point; not when he just had the sickening revelation of a lifetime, and all Puck's cuddling up to him like a wounded puppy was doing was undercutting his attempts to seem cool and badass even when revealing his massive trauma.

"I'm going to kill him," Finn murmured, half to himself.

"That's sweet and all, but that requires knowing who he is. You haven't met him. I haven't told you his last name, and I kind of won't if I think you'll go put yourself in jail for life."

"That's not funny."

"I know," Puck said. "Look, I just... he's gone now," Puck swallowed deeply. "They're over for good and he's gone and it's _finished_; I just want to forget the whole thing now."

"I don't really think that can be healthy."

"I know," Puck admitted. "This is so unfair."

Finn sighed. "So if you're just trying to forget, why did you show up at two AM to tell me everything?"

Puck tried to shrug, but couldn't quite hide the shaking of his shoulders. "I just... didn't want to sleep in that room, you know."

"...Thanks?" Finn said uncomfortably, and Puck laughed. But an awkward silence followed soon anyway.

"Dude, I'm sorry," said Finn.

"It's your fault... how?"

"You should have told me."

"I just did."

"I meant, like, earlier. Like four years ago or whatever. Back when I could have _done_ something."

Puck sighed. "Doesn't matter. I'm almost too old for him anyway," he said with a disgusted grimace.

"Dude, you don't have to... Look, this has got to suck – I have no idea how much – and you don't have to pretend it's not."

"I'm not going to feel sorry for myself," Puck bristled. "It happened, he left, now we get to move on. I just... can't be in that house tonight," he conceded. "Can I just stay the night? I'll get out before your mom wakes up."

"Of course dude," said Finn, unsure why Puck even needed to ask. Ever since they were little kids, staying over at each other's houses with and without their parents knowledge was just part of them. Whether they were vanishing for good reasons, bad reasons, or not giving reasons in general (Puck did that a lot, and it made Finn's stomach churn to think of what those may have been), their houses were always open for each other. It was the same thing that meant Puck was the only guy aware of Finn's 'mailman' problem, or that Puck would never hit on Finn's mom or girlfriend or some other girl Finn would react badly to, the same thing that meant Finn was the only person _ever_ who had seen Puck cry.

They were brothers, that simple.

"I'm here if you need help," Finn said, and maybe it was kind of cliche, but it was true.

"I don't need help," Puck responded flatly.

Finn was tempted to say _I don't believe you_, but kept his mouth shut. Instead, he just took Puck up to his room – not missing the way his best friend winced a little with each step – and gave him the bed. Puck eventually dropped off, but ironically, Finn couldn't; he stayed awake all night, watching his best friend's fitful sleep. He didn't mind.

* * *

The next morning, when Puck was gone and Finn's mom was up, there was still blood on the couch. This wasn't going to go well.

"Finn," Carole said in the most reasonable, calm tone she could muster. "How did blood get on our couch?"

Finn's mouth went dry as he looked back and forth between his mother and the stains. He had been half-hoping the whole thing had been some kind of terrible, fucked-up nightmare, and in reality, Puck was just fine. But those stains were proving otherwise. Finn needed to think of a lie, fast, and he'd never been a good liar. Fuck.

"Uh, it was Puck," Finn admitted that much. His mom looked unsurprised. "He came in last night; he'd been in, uh... a fight. Didn't want to go home and get flayed by his mom."

His mom seemed to believe it, and swallowed. "You shouldn't let him in like this without telling me, _especially_ when he's just avoiding discipline. I'm not sure I think he's a good influence anyway; what kind of kid is out fighting in the middle of the night, and needs to drag the problem to his best friend's front door?"

"Hey, that's not fai-" Finn cut himself off midway through. While his mom was awesome, he hated lying, he thought Puck keeping everything secret was crazy, and his mom probably _would_ help if she knew, Finn had made a promise. He was not going to break it, no way.

His mother cocked her head to the side. "What is it, honey?"

"Nothing," said Finn.

To the grave, he had said, and that was where he was taking it.


	2. Enter Stage Right

**2: ENTER STAGE RIGHT**

A little over a year later, it was Glee rehearsal. Finn was just idly staring at his hand – no, he was not stoned – while they waited for everyone to arrive. So far it was only him, Quinn, Puck, Tina and Artie there. Finn sort of realized that he hadn't heard Puck say a word so far, and that was probably bad.

As if reading his mind, Quinn spoke up. "Puck, what is up with you?" she said. "You haven't said a word so far. You look really depressed for no reason. What's going on?"

Puck blinked a few times. "Oh, uh, nothing," he said. Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Okay, yeah. It's just... this dude my mom's hooked up with again; they broke up, like, a year ago... Thought it was over for good. Guess it's not. The guy is an asshole, and now he's moving into our house; it's kind of pissing me off."

Finn's stomach churned, while Quinn quietly said "Oh," and Artie and Tina looked at each other and shrugged.

"That Hugo guy? The one you told me about?" Finn asked, knowing the answer. It sounded perfectly innocent to everyone else, but Finn and Puck both knew what it meant.

"Yeah," Puck muttered, not even looking back. Finn opened his mouth to say something else, but then the majority of the rest of the Glee club – Kurt, Santana and Brittany from Cheerios practice, plus Mercedes and Mr. Schue (leaving Rachel, Mike and Matt yet to come) – entered, and Finn shut up.

Justifiably, neither Puck or Finn did particularly well at that rehearsal.

* * *

Afterward, Finn and Puck both seemed to be lingering. Finn knew why he was doing it – he wanted to get Puck alone so they could talk about, well, _this_ – but he couldn't understand why Puck was. He wondered if, maybe, Puck wanted to talk to him too – unlikely, but it would make everything a hell of a lot easier

When everyone else was gone and Puck and Finn were walking out _tortuously_ slowly, Finn spoke up. "Hey dude," he said uncomfortably.

Puck sort of shrugged and half-smiled. "Hey," he said, his tone light.

Finn swallowed. Honestly he had _no_ idea how to raise this subject. "Look, dude – has that Hugo guy really moved back in?"

Puck's body when stiff and rigid, and he rather failed at hiding that with a flippant look. They both stopped walking. "Yeah," Puck said, trying to sound unaffected.

"Do you think–"

"I don't want to talk about it," Puck cut him off, starting to walk away again, quicker. Finn easily kept pace though.

"Okay. But you've got to do something, man. Or at least, let me do something, I don't know."

"Why would you do that?" Puck asked, his tone scarily flat.

"Dude, you're my best friend," Finn insisted. "You really think I'm going to let that pervert... do something, again?"

Puck swallowed visibly. "Best friends, right. I'll remember that next time your girlfriend is screaming my name as she comes."

"Dude!"

Puck laughed a little. "Wow. I'm the big fluffy victim puppy, just as long as it doesn't hurt your masculine pride?"

Finn shook his head. "No. Stop changing the subject, and stop _attacking_ me. We need to talk about this, put this creep behind bars – look, man, I _know_ you're scared–"

"And what exactly do you get, huh?" Puck yelled, obviously against his intentions. Finn recoiled for a few seconds, while Puck took in a couple of covert deep breaths and tried to pretend that he hadn't just totally lost his head for no reason. "Okay, dude, I get it. You're worried. Big pussy. But I'll be fine, promise – he won't do it again?"

"And what exactly is going to stop him?"

Puck smirked. "Please. I'm sixteen already; that's freaking _legal_ in this state. Major turn off. I'm like milk that's about to go off and turn into lumpy shit; he won't touch it. Me. He won't touch me."

"_Ew_," said Finn, distracted by the gross metaphor. "But I'm pretty sure it doesn't work that way. Dude, don't make jokes about this; I'm just trying to help."

Puck's body froze up again, and for a split second, Finn saw something flash across his best friend's eyes, and Puck's defenses fell. "Then what should I do?" he asked blankly. Finn didn't have an answer for that. Puck just sort of sighed and shrugged, straightening his posture and striding for the exit confidently.

"Puck, wait!" Finn called as his best friend left.

"What?" Puck turned around, looking irritated.

"What about your sister?" Finn asked, and yeah, that was probably cruel, but he had to say _something_ to make Puck realize what was really going on and how he couldn't _afford_ to just pretend everything was fine; besides, Sarah probably was in danger. Finn knew Puck better than anyone else on this planet, and the one thing he would _never_ let happen was his little sister getting hurt. Finn may have been too late at getting Puck out of all this entirely, but he needed to protect his best friend from further abuse, even if it required some douchey moves – whatever it takes, Puck told him that – and if Finn could _actually_ protect Sarah too, who was just a kid? Even better.

"Shut the fuck up," Puck snapped back, jaw clenching and fists balling; Finn honestly thought Puck was going to come back over and sock him one. "You don't know jackshit, and if you bring her up again, I will kill you."

That rendered Finn speechless; made his mouth go dry. "...Sorry," he said meekly, eventually. Puck didn't answer, just looked down.

When Puck almost imperceptibly started for the door again, Finn blurted out: "I'm still here if you need me!"

Puck looked at him blankly, saying "I don't need you." But the look on his face betrayed his thoughts. It was the kind of look that said: _Don't let me go back there, God please don't let me go_.

Puck swung open the door and Finn let him go anyway. He didn't know what else to do.

* * *

Puck felt cold the entire drive home. He tried turning the heat up to full, but it was no use. He shivered all the way, and he didn't know why. It wasn't like it was _actually_ cold.

Okay, he would admit it – what Finn had said was getting to him. The situation was getting to him. He didn't believe it would happen again – Hugo had made it perfectly clear that Puck had outgrown being his type, given he was legal and a freaking father now. That should have been a comfort, but it kind of really wasn't. Not when he woke up screaming from nightmares at three AM like a kid or a total pussy. Not when he kept thinking he had to smuggle his little sister off to like, Switzerland or something, just to make sure that freak couldn't get to her. Not when all he could think of when he saw the smug bastard's face was the crack of light in his dark room, those cooing tones, the hand on his ass and then other, more painful places, making him–

Puck shuddered violently and tried not to grip the steering wheel hard enough it would cut off his circulation.

When he got home, the chaos in his head was not in any way soothed by the fact there was Latin dance music playing. Accompanying the Latin dance music were low lights, and his mother, sister and That Bastard dancing like maniacs.

"What the hell?" Puck greeted them.

His mother turned toward him with a wide, affectionate grin. "Nnnoah!" she cried, drunkenly slurring. Fabulous. "Come join us!"

"It's fun!" his sister added brightly.

And, just as he was about to consider the insane, morbidly embarrassing dancing, Hugo spoke up, reminding Puck he was still _there._ "Come on, Noah. Your mother told me all about your new 'Glee Club', with the dancing and singing – show us your moves," he said, his grin so wide and threatening Puck couldn't help but be scared the bastard was about to open up and eat him.

Puck's mouth went dry. "I don't think so," he forced out, before practically _running_ up the stairs to his room. He slammed the door behind him and leant against it, breathing heavily and trying to regain his composure – he knew he couldn't keep acting like this. If he was going to make everything okay, make himself forget the whole thing enough to deal with having Hugo in his house, he would have to stop reacting to everything. He dealt with this for _years_, off and on since he was twelve – why was one year enough to make him forget how he did it?

He sat down on his bed, intending to just collapse there and possibly never get up. However, when he sat on it he couldn't – he could see, _smell_ the things that bastard had done to him, even if he was technically aware that didn't make any sense (it was actually a different bed, for one thing).

He backed up, off the bed, and tried to stop himself shaking. The music from downstairs still pounded in his head, and it wasn't helping him think rationally. He did the only thing he could think to do – he crawled under his bed like a child terrified of monsters.


	3. Mommie Dearest

**3: MOMMIE DEAREST**

Puck slept surprisingly well given the circumstances – namely, his former abuser was a few doors away and he wasn't actually in his bed. He did have a hell of a crick in his neck, however, and the only reason he had woken up was because the buzz of the electronic doorbell kept screeching in his ear. He crawled out from under the bed and looked up at the clock, realizing it was just after six AM. Who the fuck was getting him up at six on a Saturday? Some bastard was gonna pay for that.

Puck sprinted out of his room to get the door before his mother could get there, because a sleep deprived/interrupted Helen Puckerman (her maiden name; he had it because his deadbeat dad had never actually married her, thank god) was a fate no-one deserved.

"What is it?" Puck barked before he had even fully swung the door open and was able to see who was standing there. It was Finn, who just stared dumbly.

"Oh, uh, Puck," Finn said, as if he was surprised Puck would be there. "Hey."

"Finn," Puck said through gritted teeth, "It's six. Fucking. AM. Why are you here?"

Finn's eyes went wide as he looked behind Puck, as if there was a vampire or some shit creeping up from behind. "I know, but we've got that... thing."

Puck raised an eyebrow. "Thing?" he asked, finally looking behind himself to where Finn couldn't keep his eyes from slipping. It was just his mother, watching them grumpily and through sleep-filled eyes – that felt weirdly disappointing.

Finn shuffled uncomfortably on his feet, looking down and generally seeming like he'd rather be wrestling polar bears naked in Antarctica than here. "You know, that _thing_. The thing... thing."

Fuck, Finn was a terrible liar. But there was an undertone of something – desperation? – in his voice that made Puck take pity on him (and possibly, made something in his stomach go _snap_). "Oh, yeah. The thing," he said casually, flashing an apologetic look over his shoulder to his mother. She shrugged as if she didn't even understand what was going on – actually, given the expression on her face telling him she may pass out right there on the floor, that was probably a real possibility. Whatever, it was permission enough for Puck.

"Okay, let's go," Finn mumbled, before practically _dragging _Puck out the door. They started to walk, but Puck waited until they were a bit further away before talking again.

"Okay dude, really. What's this about?"

Finn grimaced. "You know what, Puck. _Him_."

"I don't want–"

"To talk about it, I know. And as much as it pisses me off, if you don't want to, I can't – _won't_ – make you. But the thought of you in that house with the freak was killing me, so I'm just trying to get you out of there as much as possible."

Puck took in a deep breath. "He hasn't... tried anything. Yet. You could have just let me sleep, dude."

Finn shrugged. "You can sleep at my house," he says.

"Thanks," Puck tried to say. He opened his mouth and his lips formed the words, but no sound came out.

* * *

Puck spent most of that weekend over at the Hudson house with Finn – Hummel and his dad seem pissed about the situation, but with Finn's puppy dog eyes and one of Mrs. Hudson's death glares, they let it slide. Mrs. Hudson was always cool to him, even after the whole babygate mess – Finn had totally lucked out on the awesome mom front, so much so, Puck would never hit on her. Even if she was hot (which, really, she wasn't) – he had morals.

They played video games most of the time, talking about shit that didn't matter, and Finn tried to avoid pressing for more information about the Hugo thing. He didn't really _succeed_ – his worry, anger and confusion got the better of him – but he was trying to be respectful. He managed to avoid pissing Puck off most of the time, so he guessed he was doing okay. Puck only let a few snippets of information slip, like how he had slept under his bed Friday night, or little facts about Life With Hugo – like how one of the times he worked was scheduled when Puck had Glee, just because God was mocking him or something.

That probably wasn't meant to give Finn the idea it did.

* * *

He skipped Glee the following Wednesday, because, uh, plan didn't work if he was at Glee. Puck would probably kill him if he knew he was doing this, but that was kind of why Finn hadn't told him – something _had_ to be done, and Finn was not the kind to let his best friend suffer without even trying to fix things. He had _met_ Puck's mom; she seemed like a decent lady. A little snappish, and prone towards booze, but decent at heart. Puck adored her, although he would not admit it even if you set wild mountain lions on him. She would have to understand.

He rang the doorbell, leading to her answering in a loose, long flowing skirt and tons of gold jewelry. Finn thought she kind of looked like that chick from _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_, but like, real and stuff. And old. Kurt would probably have some kind of fancy word for this look, but whatever.

She looked confused. "Finn?" she asked. "Puck's–"

"Not home yet, I know," he cut her off. "That's kind of the whole point. I need to talk to you."

She frowned, but indicated for him to come inside. He did so, observing the corridor. "Uh, nice house," he said dumbly, as if it hadn't been his second home since he was like, four.

"Cut to the chase, Finn," she said, and Finn took a deep breath. It was easy to think of telling her in the abstract and fixing everything, but in reality, it was considerably harder to figure out how to say it.

"Uh, okay. It's about... your boyfriend. And Puck," he paused, expecting her to comment. She didn't, so he went on. "Listen, the last time you guys broke up, the summer before this one? Puck kind of showed up at my house. And he told he... Hugo had, you know, done stuff to him."

"Stuff?"

"You know, _stuff_. Like, stuff he shouldn't have. Like, touching him stuff."

Helen's jaw locked and her eyes narrowed. "So you're telling me, Hugo sexually abused him?"

Finn nodded. "Yeah," he whispered, then paused. "Ms. Puckerman... you've got to kick the freak out. Talk to Puck. Get him to press charges or something, I dunno, but we can't let this pervert get away with it."

Puck's mom took in a deep breath that made Finn think she was about to go on a totally justified rampage of rage against the bastard who had hurt her son. She didn't. "So why isn't Noah telling me this, then?" she asked.

Finn shrugged awkwardly. "Uh, he's not been that clear. He's scared. Or uncomfortable. Or both. Or something."

"You think he wouldn't trust me. You think he'd trust you more," she said, folding her arms under her chest. Finn started to get that creeping feeling that things weren't going according to plan.

"Uh, no, it's just... I don't think he wants to hurt you, and he think you'd–"

"You're disgusting," Helen hissed, cutting him off.

Finn blinked. "What?"

"Coming in here, spreading lies about _my_ family for petty revenge? Don't act like I don't know who you are, Finn. Look, I know what Noah did with your girlfriend was wrong, and you have every right to feel betrayed – but you do _not_ get to try and wreck everything because you can't get over it. It's been almost a year now, _move on_."

Finn shook his head in sheer _confusion_. "Wait, what? That has nothing to do with it! He's your _son_, and–"

"And then wouldn't I have been the one to notice if something was wrong?" she bites. "I love Noah. And I love Hugo. And I love Sarah. This is my family now, and I am not going to let a self-centered brat like you destroy it over one mistake my son made a long time ago. Now get out of my house, and never lie to me like that again."

Finn couldn't help but gape. He had gone to her for help! He stumbled out of the Puckerman's house without a goodbye, or a last attempt and convincing her – he felt shell-shocked. He spotted his car and crawled in, trying to into the way his big hand shook on the door handle thing.

He got in, gripped the steering wheel, and broke down crying harder than he had in years.


	4. Glass

**4: GLASS**

When Finn got home, he really just didn't want to deal with the world. He didn't want to look anyone in the eye, and sure as hell didn't want to call and tell Puck the bad news - "Hey man, either your mom's a crazy delusional bitch or she just generally doesn't give a shit about you. Congrats!"

Fuck.

Maybe he should have tried harder; not left when she ordered him out, said more to convince her he wasn't lying. He didn't really think it would have worked, but was so sick of just being there and feeling helpless and scared. The crazy, selfish part of his brain wished Puck had never told him, if he wasn't going to do anything when push came to shove.

Finn did his best to force that thought back down, because it wasn't fair. He didn't really know what Puck was dealing with, and he couldn't ask for anything – dude, Puck _needed_ him right now. He thought, anyway. He'd be there.

Even if it was fucking annoying.

Finn was lost somewhere in his reverie (Rachel Berry's word of the day) when Kurt burst in, startling him. "You weren't at Glee today."

"Gah!" Finn almost fell off the bed. "Um. No. I guess I wasn't."

"...Why?"

Finn bit his lip, looking away. "I had... stuff to do. It's complicated."

Kurt looked kind of suspicious. "Finn, what's going on?"

"Noth–" Finn couldn't bring himself to finish that word. He sighed. "Okay, yeah, something's going on. But I can't tell you, so leave me alone, okay?"

Kurt's eyes narrowed. "Finn, it isn't another girl, is it? Because, while I may not like Rachel that much, I wouldn't let you betray her like this."

"No!" Finn said. "I..."

And then something in him just broke, tired of trying to carry this weight on his own. Kurt was a good guy – probably a better person than Finn was – and he'd want to help if he knew; he was smarter too, he might actually have a clue what to do about the whole mess.

"Kurt, can you keep a secret?"

Kurt frowned, but came down to sit on the bed. "I'm gay in Lima, Finn; I got some practice in the art of not telling all."

"The gay thing doesn't really count though, dude; no offence, but we kinda figured it out like, ages before you told us. Well, except Mercedes apparently, but she really liked you and y'know, love makes you stupid."

"Don't I know it," says Kurt. "But that's besides the point. Finn, what is going on?"

Finn breathed in deeply. "It's... it's Puck."

"I suddenly feel less inclined to care."

"Dude!" Finn needed Kurt to take this mess seriously.

"Sorry," Kurt said. "But I'm still not sure why I should be concerned with Noah Puckerman's problems; he's never really been any better than indifferent to me, and many times has been outright malicious."

"Dude, _words_," Finn said, rubbing his forehead so he'd miss Kurt's 'Finn-is-an-idiot' eye roll. "But dude, you're a good guy, and while Puck is kind of a douche there are seriously levels of what goes from douche to evil bastard and the evil bastard does not get to attack the douche, and yeah, Puck has been a dick to both of us in the past but I'm not calling this karma, and you wouldn't either, because seriously neither of us have been in anything _near_ this so–"

"Finn!" Kurt interrupted. "From the beginning, please?"

Finn inhaled and tried to become calm again. It wasn't easy. "Look... you know how Puck's mom's boyfriend's moved in, right? Like, they were off-and-on for ages and they thought it was done for good like, last summer, but now they're living together?"

Kurt frowned. "I was vaguely aware, yes. But I don't get why this is..."

"Last time Puck's mom and that dude broke up? Puck showed up at my house. At like, three AM. That Hugo guy... the bastard had freaking _raped _him, man. And it wasn't like that was the start, either; I mean, he'd never gone that far before, but... Puck said it had been going on for years, man. And now the guy is back, and Puck's in denial or something, and he _refuses_ to do anything about it; he keeps saying he's too old or some shit now, and it won't happen again. And even if it _doesn't_ anyway, I mean, it can't be good for Puck's head, living with the guy who did that to him, right? Not even mentioning Sarah; I mean, Puck might be too old but she's just a kid and..."

Kurt didn't interrupt Finn's word vomit this time, at least partly because he wanted to normal-vomit at the news. "Oh god," he whispered. It took a few seconds, but he forcibly activated the cynical, logical part of his brain. "Are you sure it's true?" he asks. "I mean, I hate to say it, but Puck isn't exactly the most honest person I know. Can you believe him?"

The look Finn shot him was one of the most withering Kurt had ever seen; it actually made him recoil. "Dude. He was _bleeding out his ass_. How'd you think that'd happen; you think he could fake that? Besides. Puck is kind of a dick, but I don't think he'd lie about this."

Kurt drew back, immediately admitting defeat. "Sorry," he said. "You know, that doesn't actually explain why you weren't at Glee."

"I went to go talk to Puck's mom. Tell her what was going on. I had to find a time I knew Puck wouldn't be home, because he'd _freak_ at me for trying to tell her," Finn explained.

Kurt bit his lip. "How'd it go?"

"She doesn't believe me," Finn said, looking down. "She accused me of making the whole thing up to get back at Puck about the Quinn thing. She called me disgusting, then she threw me out."

Kurt flinched. "Do you think she actually believes that, or is trying to convince herself of it so she doesn't have to deal?"

Finn just stared for a few seconds, as if that question had never occurred to him. "I... dude, I don't know."

Kurt sighed. "So, how do you think Puck'll react when he finds out you told me?"

Finn's eyes went wide and panicky. "Dude, you _cannot_ tell him I told you! He'll freaking kill me! I mean, he'd kill me for telling anyone, but he doesn't even _like_ you."

"Relax, Finn. I like being alive, and I don't want to make anything worse for him – I won't let him find out I know," Kurt said, then sighed. "I just... never expected this. Having to treat _Noah Puckerman_ like something fragile; like glass that might shatter. I feel so sorry for him, and it confuses the hell out of me."

Finn looked like he might start crying. "What do we do?"

"How am I meant to know?"


	5. Something to Recommend

**5: SOMETHING TO RECOMMEND**

Puck heard laughter and giggling coming from down the hallway. His sister's laughing and giggling.

"Stop it!"

Something in his stomach churned, as he charged down the hall to see his sister, on her back, that bastard's hands all over her as she said _stop_–

"What the hell are you doing?"

They both looked up in confusion, as Puck balled his fists. Hugo took a few moments to think over his response. "Turns out, she's ticklish. I would be failing in my duty as a parental substitute if I didn't take advantage of that."

"Really," Puck said skeptically. Then he thought about it a bit more.

Okay, all her clothes were _on_, and they didn't look in any danger of being off. His mother was just a few rooms away, and Hugo wasn't that dumb. They seemed pretty composed. And he had come here because he heard Sarah _giggling_. Like, she was _happy_.

This was so fucking with his head.

"Yes. Really," said Hugo.

"Noah?" Sarah asked.

Puck shook his head. "Forget it."

* * *

That night at dinner, Puck volunteered to do the washing up. His mom looked like he had announced he was marrying a kookaburra and moving to Poland. Really, he just knew that she and Hugo were going to be curled up on the couch and unless he found something to do, she'd insist on him (and Sarah, for that matter) being there. And Puck really didn't want to vomit all over them. So, washing up.

This plan didn't work out as well as he hoped. Namely, when he was midway through, Hugo came in, sitting on a kitchen chair and looking to talk.

"Hey," he said. "So, either you've gotten a lot more helpful and responsible in the last year or so... Or you're avoiding me."

Puck grunted.

"Is there a reason you want nothing to do with me?"

"Uh, why do you _think_?"

Hugo rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay. Still, it's been a year, I said I wouldn't do it again – Why can't you just get over it? Because resenting me doesn't do anything. I mean, who would believe you?"

Puck gripped the edge of the sink. "Dude, I _know_. I'm trying, okay? But I won't trust you, and if you lay one hand on Sarah–"

"Relax. She's annoying anyway," he said.

"Are you trying to make me want to punch you? Like, more than usual?"

Hugo laughed. "You've got some anger management issues," he said. "Besides – we had some good memories, didn't we?"

Puck turned around for the first time in this conversation. "We... have _very_ different definitions of good."

Hugo snorted. "Sure. You say that; you've always said that, but I remember that certain _parts_ of you didn't think so much–"

"Shut the fuck up!" Puck yelled. He breathed deeply. "I was a kid, for christ's sake. In case you don't remember – or you're not actually human and hence never were this, which totally wouldn't surprise me – it's not all that easy to keep control of your body at my sort of age."

Hugo nodded. "Sure," and it was obvious he didn't believe a word of it. "Honestly, if you're struggling so much, why aren't you telling anyone?"

Puck didn't mention Finn. "Mom. It would break her heart," he explained simply.

"Makes sense."

Puck sighed. "Look, I don't care whether you admit it or not – you hurt me. I can't hurt you back without fucking everyone over majorly, so I have the _right_ to hate you instead. Okay?"

Hugo thought this over for a moment. "Okay. Seems fair," and he stood. "I'll deal."

* * *

"Noah?"

"What do you want?"

It probably wasn't fair to snap at his sister like that, but whatever. She was a tough kid, she could deal with him being mean.

"What's wrong?"

Puck sighed and turned on his side on his bed. "Nothing."

"Liar," she walked into the room and sat on his bed with him. He sighed and sat up.

"Okay, yeah, you caught me there," he said. "But don't worry about it, okay? I'll be fine. You know me."

"There isn't another baby, is there?" she asked. "Because the last time I saw you this sad, it was about the baby?"

"What? No!" he insisted. "Believe me, baby girl, I've gotten more careful about how I... I'm going to cut this sentence off before Mom senses I'm saying something that will make her kill me. Woman has psychic powers, no lie."

"You know I'm just going to annoy you until you tell me what you talking about, right?"

"Yeah, I know," he said. "And I will annoy you back until you drop it. Let the best man win."

"I'm not a man. And I don't think you're old enough."

Puck rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"But really, what's wrong?"

He sighed. "I told you. Nothing you have to worry about, and if this works out you'll never have to... and don't tell anyone I said that last bit."

She looked confused. "Okay. You're weird, brother."

"I'll live."

"Do you want me to stay?" she asked. "You look like you need a hug."

He thought about it for a little. It made him a total pussy, and it wasn't fair to ask his (almost) eight-year-old sister to be the one to support him.

But who fucking _cared_, because he really did need that hug.

"Okay. Sure."

And she fell into his arms as he held on tight, and they lay on the bed, cuddled up like they could protect each other. They fell asleep like that.

* * *

Puck woke up the next morning to a loud cough from the doorway, with Sarah still in his arms. He opened his eyes and saw Hugo staring at them from the doorway, looking smug. His blood ran cold and he gripped his sister tighter.

"What – what do you want?" he eventually choked out. Hugo just kept _looking_ at them, eyes dark and examining. _He's not going to..._

"So," said Hugo. "In bed with a seven year old. Hypocrite. Watch your hands, kid."

Puck could barely understand the accusation. "I – I–"

Hugo rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say. Just don't let your mother see."

He walked off, and Puck immediately jumped back up to run to the bathroom and puke.


	6. Whatever the Case May Be

**6: WHATEVER THE CASE MAY BE**

The thing was, Puck still had a life to deal with and all that. Including his 'pool cleaning' business. Hugo had picked up pretty quickly that it wasn't much of a business and didn't involve much cleaning of pools, but whatever. Like Puck cared what he thought; the guy could go get fucked. Wait, that was Puck's plan.

"Hello Noah," cooed Mrs. Hewson over the phone, although the sexy voice she was trying to affect was sort of losing its impact thanks to the static on the phone. They had a majorly bad line. "Could you come over? I think my pool needs your attention."

"Sure," said Puck coolly. "I'll see you."

"Bye."

He hung up, to hear someone talk from behind him. "So, another day on the job?"

"Jesus!" Puck jumped around, vaguely thinking that his mom may or may not be pissed at him using the name of a religious figure he didn't believe in, in vain. He saw Hugo leaning on the doorway. "Dude," he said, "Eavesdrop much?"

Hugo shrugged. "You weren't exactly being quiet, Noah."

"Still, not cool," grumbled Puck. Hugo rolled his eyes.

"So, who was that?"

"Mrs. Hewson," answered Puck. "She wants me to clean her pool."

Hugo raised an eyebrow at the innuendo. Puck started to feel slightly sick.

"It's my _job_," said Puck, maybe a bit too defensively. Hugo nodded.

"Of course," he said. "So, tell me about the woman."

"Fuck you!" snapped Puck. "Dude, unless you've forgotten this, I _hate_ you. Why would I make small talk about a chick I – work for, sometimes," okay, yeah, that so wasn't what he was originally going to say, but whatever. He was _so_ not talking about his sex life with this fucker, not even in passing; the guy would probably – you know what? Not even going there.

Hugo rolled his eyes. "Because you _have_ to put up with me. And, I hate to say it, but that will require _talking_ to me quite a bit actually. Your memory can't be that bad. So, why not? There's no reason to avoid the question."

Puck sighed in defeat. "Fine," he grumbled. "She's cool. Rich. 'Bout forty or so. Got divorced recently, gets a fuckload of alimony and shit, so her life is pretty much awesome without her having to work for it."

Hugo took that all in. "So she's rich," he said. "Do you need her money?"

Puck wasn't sure how to answer. "...It's useful sometimes," he said.

He wasn't expecting what happened next.

Hugo cracked up laughing.

"Dude, what the hell?"

"Sorry, Noah," he said, not sounding sorry in the slightest. "It's just... you really are priceless, aren't you?"

Puck was taken aback, and started storming past Hugo. "To hell with this," he said. "I'm going."

"Yeah, _that_ disproves my point. You realize you're a whore, right?"

Puck turned back around, glaring. "What the fuck?"

"Come on, Puck. We live in Ohio. _Everyone knows_ what you do with the women you 'work' for," said Hugo, smirking. "Hey, can't say I blame you. Still, they're paying you for sex, and you can't really get around that one."

"Dude. No-one is _paying_ me to fuck them," Puck insisted. "I clean their pools, they pay me, that's it. If something else happens? Whatever, that's totally a different thing, and, by the way, _totally_ none of your business."

Hugo snorted. "You're really good at being in denial, aren't you Noah? Pretending your just some normal kid, and none of this is crazy?"

"You're a piece of shit," Puck defended himself. "You couldn't figure out anything about me if I made you a fucking diagram. You don't know why I do what I do; don't act like you have a fucking clue."

"Oh, get over yourself!" yelled Hugo. "Do you think I can't hear the way you sound at night, in your nightmares; 'Stop it, please, don't touch me'?"

"Not fair," said Puck. "I never remember my dreams. How am I meant to be able to tell if you're telling the truth or not?"

Hugo rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Noah, I do know some stuff about you – the prostituting yourself; the baby at sixteen; the complete inability to hold onto or make work any kind of friendship, family relationship, or romantic relationship? Come on, 'Puck', _everything about you_ screams broken!" he concluded. "It's actually a bit of a compliment."

"Fuck you!" Puck steps forward and punched him in the face. "You didn't make me, and you don't know a thing about me."

"You keep believing that, kid," said Hugo, smirking even as he was holding his nose.

"I repeat: Fuck. You," said Puck. "Now, I've got a job to get to."

* * *

"Noah, come inside," called Mrs. Hewson. "It's hot out."

It wasn't really. "I'm not finished!" he called back. Yeah, he knew what she really wanted, but whatever. He wasn't in the mood, alright?

Huh. When did he stop being in the mood?

When was he _not_ in the mood, ever?

Mrs. Hewson walked into the doorway, leaning against it. "You sure?" she asked, unsubtly pulling down her top so Puck could see exactly _how_ low-cut that neckline was. Still, he didn't look at her for long, turning back to the pool.

"I'm sure," he said, without looking back. He could practically feel her pouting at him, but whatever. This pool was being a bitch, and he wanted to do a good job – Puckzilla could defeat a freaking _pool_, surely.

And maybe, at the end of the day, she didn't tip him as much, but what of it? She was probably just having a crappy day or something.

* * *

Puck wasn't _really_ surprised to run into Hummel – well, duh, he did that all the time – but he wasn't really expecting the guy to make some kind of big deal out of it. Didn't Hummel hate him? (He kind of had a point, what with the years of dumpster dives and all that. Not that Puck would admit it.)

"Puck, hi," said Hummel, his voice... weird. Soft or something.

"...Hey?" said Puck, confused.

Kurt paused awkwardly. "So... how are you?"

Puck stood up straighter, crossing his arms over his chest intimidatingly, and making sure Hummel knew he was taller (not that he was actually taller by _much_, if you looked, but whatever. It counted). "Fine," he said

Kurt nodded. "Okay."

"Did you want something?"

Kurt hesitated, before shaking his head. "No," he eventually said. "Sorry Puck. I'll see you in Glee."

He walked off with one last glance back at Puck, who frowned. "What the fuck?" he announced to no-one in particular.

Something prickled at the back of Puck's neck; the thought of who Hummel _was_. Who he _lived with_. That would make him prime target to be told...

_No_. Puck shook the thought out of his head. Finn wouldn't do that; he gave Puck his word, and the dude was too nice to go back on that.

Hummel must have just had a gay crush on _him_ now instead of Finn, or something.


	7. Believe

**7: BELIEVE**

Puck walked into Glee and slumped down next to Finn. "Hey man," said Finn.

"Hey," Puck responded. "Hey, did you...?"

"What?"

Puck looked uncomfortable. "Look, Hummel was being really weird just before. I mean, like, more than usual, and _that's_ saying something. I was just wondering..."

_Shit_, thought Finn. _Shit!_ Puck _knew_. It was dumb to tell Kurt anything in the first place; Puck was about to ask an important question that Finn needed to lie to, and Finn couldn't lie. _He's going to kill me!_

"...What?"

And then, just like that, Puck shook his head. "Nothing. Just Hummel being a weird fucker."

Finn breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Could you try not to talk about him like that?" Finn asked, voice strained – they were really just going to talk about this like everything was normal, weren't they? Finn should have been used to that by now, with the way Puck kept acting, but dammit he _wasn't_.

Puck shot him a dubious look. "Dude. I'm not being a homophobic asshole... anymore. Yeah, if I was, I'd totally see your point about me shutting the fuck up, but – I'm not. No-one ever said I had to _like _the guy. I'll talk about him how I like, thanks."

Finn rolled his eyes. "No, it's not that. It's just that, he's sorta like my stepbrother now, and I probably shouldn't let you talk about him like that. Really, you guys are just as bitchy as each other – and he's a stereotype, so..."

Finn trailed off. Yeah, it was a joke, but it was _not_ okay to make that implication to Puck – it probably was kind of homophobic to make that implication as a joke in the first place, but saying it to Puck, given everything he'd been through... _Shit. Major douche moment, Hudson._

It hung awkwardly in the air between them for a second. Then Puck grinned and punched him in the arm. "You shut up," he said. "Seriously, with the rate you accuse everyone–"

"Shut up, Puck," Finn said, hiding a sigh of relief for the second time. He vaguely wondered if Puck was noticing; if he was noticing the implications that were making Finn worked up enough to be relieved in the first place.

"Guys?" interrupted Mr. Schue, drawing both boys' attention. "Can we get started?"

"Oh, uh, sorry," said Finn.

* * *

After Glee, Finn, on impulse, walked up to Mr. Schue. "Uh, hey, Schue."

Some people looked back at him curiously, and Schue cocked his head to the side. "Finn?"

"So, uh, I wanted to ask you something," Finn says. Everyone was starting to shuffle out, but Kurt looked back at him. "You go on ahead," said Finn, "I'll catch up."

"...Alright," said Kurt quietly, walking out. When everyone was gone, Finn sighed and collapsed down on the piano stool. He buried his head in his hands.

"Finn?" asked Mr. Schue, sitting down beside him. "What's going on? Are you alright?"

Finn shook his head, and looked back up. "No. I'm in deep shit," he admitted. "I need advice, man."

Schue looked on at him in concern. "Alright. What's wrong?"

Finn bit his lip. "I... I have this friend, okay?" he blurted out. "And, uh, his mom's now living with... this boyfriend."

Finn watched Mr. Schue visibly swallow. "And?" he asked.

Finn winced – he was kind of hoping he wouldn't have to say that bit. It wasn't like he _planned_ this whole 'ask Mr. Schue what to do' thing; he just kind of did it. "And, uh, I know, this boyfriend... does stuff to him."

His voice went quiet on the last bit, and he avoided Mr. Schue's eyes. There was an uncomfortable pause. Finn suddenly realized he was in far too deep; there was no going back and pretending nothing was going on. Even if Mr. Schue didn't figure out it was Puck, he'd know it was _something_, and it wouldn't be the same. Finn just prayed it would worth it; that it would help somehow.

"Does what?" asked Mr. Schue. Finn hesitated. "Would it... is it abuse?"

Finn just nodded. Schue sighed heavily.

"Can you tell me – chiefly – what kind of abuse it is? They tend to all sort of interact, but is it emotional, physical, sexual...?"

Finn flinched. "The last one," he admitted. Finally, he looked up and met Mr. Schue's eyes.

"...Finn..."

"I just don't know what to do," he whispered. "I mean, I can't just let this..."

Mr. Schue uncomfortably put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You were right to tell me," he said. "I mean, this sort of thing sends kids to their graves."

It was the wording that made Finn's stomach churn. He _had_ a memory, as useless as it was being right now; he'd made a promise to Puck, for better or for worse: _This is just us; you know, to the grave. _And Finn broke his word.

He had _already_ broken his word, admittedly, but he'd broken it to someone who refused to do anything and to someone who wasn't in any better position to do anything than Finn was, so those didn't count. Somehow.

He leaped up in a panic.

"Oh god, I shouldn't have talked to you," he blurted out, too panicked to wonder if that was rude to Schue. "Oh god, I have to _go_, _now_."

"Finn, wait–"

"He's going to kill me!" Finn yelled and ran out of the choir room; he didn't stop until he was out front door of the school.

"Fuck," he muttered. He suddenly noticed Puck is standing in front of him, although Puck hadn't noticed him – or the fact he was _freaking out_ – yet. Finn did his best to put himself back together, before he walked up to Puck's side.

"Hey," he said. Puck looked a bit surprised.

"Hey," he said. "What was that about? With Mr. Schue?"

"Oh! Uh..." _Calm Hudson, calm. Think now._ "Nothing. I just had to ask about... this song thing."

Puck nodded and seemed to accept this. Finn let out the third sigh of relief so far. "So, uh, do you know where Kurt is? 'Cause Mom'll be pissed if I lose him."

Puck shrugged. "Dude, he ran back to his locker to get is pearls or something. And could you really lose him? I know you're dumb man, but..."

"It was a joke. And Kurt's short anyway," Finn said, pouting. Puck rolled his eyes.

"Dude, I knew it was a joke. I was playing along, you idiot."

"Oh, well, whatever," Finn said. He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Look, man, I'm sorry about before. I mean, implying you were..."

Puck blinked at him, confused. "Dude, it was a joke. I implied right back. We say shit like that all the time; what's the big deal?"

"Well, yeah, but given what... _happened_ to you, I just, you know..." Finn felt the annoying sensation he really wasn't helping himself.

Puck glared at him. "Okay, this is just like it's been for the last _year_. Nothing's changed. Could you treat me like normal; thank you very fucking much?"

"Dude!" Finn threw his hands in the air in frustration. "I can't make you do anything about this, fine, but I have the _right_ to care, and try not to make things worse. You're my best friend, man."

That didn't do much for his gnawing feeling of guilt

Puck rolled his eyes. "Don't make me puke," he said. "And seriously, if you wanna be my 'best friend'? Treat me like I'm still fucking human."

Finn didn't respond, and they just stared at each other until Kurt came back into view, holding a box. "Finn. Thank you for holding us up," he said. "No, I'm being genuine. If you hadn't insisted on talking to Mr. Schue, I would never have remembered this," he indicated the box. Finn just nodded, and _then_ Kurt noticed the bad atmosphere. "Okay, what is happening? If he has impregnated your girlfriend again, do what you will. If not, come on, let's move."

Finn shook his head. "What? No. Sorry. And dude, way to be a bitch."

"I'm always like that!" Kurt defended himself. "Anyway, see you, Puck. Finn, car."

"See ya," said Puck as Finn and Kurt started to walk away. Once he was well out of earshot and the two were _at_ the car, Finn started to talk.

"Dude, are you sure it's a good idea to just like, talk to him the way you normally do? I mean, I don't like how you two get along in the first place, but given what's going on with him..."

Kurt shrugged and opened the door. "Well, I tried to be compassionate and ask questions, but it seemed to freak him out a bit. Really, the way I see it, I don't see how acting differently will make things _better_. I'd rather just act like normal until I can actually do some good; it will make his life seem more routine, if nothing else." He slid inside the car. Finn frowned and did the same.

"Huh. That actually makes sense," he said. "Fuck. I've been really... what was that word for when you're trying to be nice, but you wind up being really insulting about it?"

"Patronizing?" Kurt offered. "Finn, it's _okay_. You boys have been friends since the dawn of time. You _should_ be worried about him. You _should_ be freaking the fuck out, to use crude language."

Finn sighed. "Is it okay if I...?"

Kurt just looked at him. "If you what?"

"Nothing. Forget it," even if Kurt knew about the general situation, Finn wasn't quite ready to tell him about what he'd just done yet.

Kurt shrugged, turned the ignition key, and they set off.

* * *

Back in the choir room, Will paced around in agitation. He couldn't believe this was happening. "Fuck!" he swore, and kicked the piano. It hurt his foot, but he didn't pay much attention to that.

He couldn't believe he hadn't seen it sooner – Finn had acted distant and confused for weeks, and had never been enthusiastic about moving in with the Hummels. Will could understand him looking for advice and claiming it was about 'a friend', just because he was scared – not be insulting, but Finn was fairly naive; Will could see him genuinely expecting that he wouldn't be figured out.

Will's stomach was starting to ache, thinking of how scared and hurt Finn seemed; the fear in his voice when he cried 'he'll kill me!' Will believed that could be very well true – what sort of abuser would let himself be revealed without a fight?

The funny thing was? When he had _met_ Burt Hummel, he had genuinely liked the man. He seemed to care deeply for Kurt, and didn't care about his sexuality; he would have done anything for his son. Will thought he was a good man for that. He didn't know how he could have been so wrong about someone's nature, even though Will was smart enough to know that just one incident cannot mean you'll consider someone innocent for the rest of your life, no matter the mounting evidence. Still, it wasn't a good thought – Oh god, what if Burt was hurting Kurt too? Kurt seemed the kind of kid to be better at hiding this than Finn.

Will groaned in frustration and despair, but he knew he had to do something. He meant what he said before: abuse like this _did_ put kids in the ground. And it was up to Will to save Finn.


	8. The Nay Sayers

**8:** **THE NAY-SAYERS**

Finn blinked in confusion. "So," he said, "I don't understand what we're doing here."

Just before school, the Hummel-Hudson house got the call asking them _all_ to come in, even though Finn and Kurt usually drove to school on their own (because they were seventeen, not seven). They were also told not to go to class, but to Figgins' office – normally, Finn'd be happy with any excuse to get out of class, but Figgins' office usually meant Something Bad was happening.

Nobody said anything for a while, with Finn, Burt, Carole and Kurt just standing there awkwardly, and Figgins plus Mr. Schue staring at them from their seats (why was Mr. Schue here anyway?). "Dude, am I like... being expelled?" asked Finn.

Schue shook his head. "No Finn," he sighed. "Take a seat, will you."

Finn was confused, but he walked forward to take the seat next to Mr. Schue. Schue threw an odd look at Burt over his shoulder, and Finn felt something weirdly like dread in his gut. His family all stepped closer together, as if to compensate for the sudden Finn-shaped gap, and he looked to Principal Figgins. "So, uh, are you going to tell me what's really going on?"

Figgins sighed his serious-principal-matters sigh, and Finn had only heard that like, once before, so it scared him. "Mr. Hudson, I don't need to say that dealing with situations like these is not something I look forward to, in regards to any student." Well, that wasn't encouraging. "Mr. Schuester has informed me... of a matter you discussed with him yesterday, seeking advice. Featuring a _friend_ whose mother had moved in with a new boyfriend, and was now being sexually abused by said boyfriend."

_Oh. Shit._ "Wait, what, _that_?" he said. "Oh no. Dude, I told you I was being stupid and we should forget the whole thing – well actually, I didn't 'cause I kinda rushed out of there, but it was like, underneath what I was doing pretty clearly: I _didn't_ want you to make a big deal out of this!" he was full-blown ranting at Mr. Schue by the end of it, who was just taking it in stride.

"Finn, I couldn't just do _nothing_," Schue said, reaching over to pat him on the back comfortingly. Finn shrunk away, and Schue seemed to accept that immediately, pulling his hand back. "I meant what I said yesterday, you know. About this sort of thing putting kids in the ground."

Finn groaned and buried his head in his hands. "Yeah, I know." He couldn't say he hadn't read all the horror stories about kids in abusive homes offing themselves, and been scared shitless. He looked up again. "But I shouldn't have – I mean, I had _no right_ – fuck, I mean, he told me–"

"Finn!" Schue cuts him off, "You don't have to listen to what he told you, okay; you're the victim here and what he's doing to is–"

"Okay, what the hell?" burst out Burt, and when Finn looked over his shoulder he realized his mom was gaping in shock at her boyfriend. Kurt looked horrified, but weirdly... annoyed at the same time. "Okay, I don't know what you're thinking Schuester, but I have never done _anything–_"

"Shockingly enough, Mr. Hummel, given the circumstances, I'm not really inclined to believe you," Schue's voice quivered with barely-repressed rage, and _then_ Finn figured it out.

_...Shit!_

"Wait, what?" Finn jumped out of his seat. "You thought I was talking about _me_? You thought _Burt_ had done something? Dude, no way. I mean, yeah, I didn't say _who_, but I said 'friend' and that pretty much ruled me out, unless I had like, schizophilia or something."

"Phrenia."

"Whatever!"

"Finn, you're an idiot," said Kurt from across the room. Finn just glared at him.

"Dude, not helping."

"Kurt," said Mr. Schue. "I'm worried about you. And Finn. If something has happened to him – which, from what he said yesterday, I'm thinking did, despite everyone denying it – there's a good chance something happened to you too. You're both in a lot of trouble, and I can understand why you would be scared and confused, but–"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Mr. Schuester, this is ridiculous!" he said. "And don't talk to me like I'm ten. God, Finn, this is what I meant by calling you an idiot. Don't you watch any bad teen dramas?" that confused Finn. Kurt went on. "If you try and talk about a 'friend' being abused, of course they're going to interpret that you're talking about yourself and trying to keep it secret. Half the time, they're actually right. Did you think this through at _all_?"

"Not really!" said Finn. "I was, I dunno, _confused_ and... _scared_ and... I didn't know what to do, okay?"

"Finn, that's okay," Schue interjected. Finn groans.

"Dude, I was _not_ talking about myself there, okay? What's it gonna take for you to believe that?" he asked. Then his curiosity came up again. "And if I was, why would you invite _him_ to this meeting with me anyway?" he pointed at Burt. "Wouldn't that just like, scare me out of saying anything?"

Burt glared at him. "Kid, I wouldn't be so worried about you shooting yourself in the foot, but you're kinda shooting me in the foot while you're at it."

Schue sighed. "I'm sorry. But without a better explanation I can't help but think this is just you wanting help, but being too scared to actually ask for it. And I have to–"

"Finn, you have to tell him," Kurt said. "Who this is really about."

"Tell me you're kidding," Finn said. Kurt shook his head. "Dude, _no way_! I made a promise!"

"You told me!" Kurt yelled. "And this wouldn't be necessary if you hadn't made a stupid mistake – it's not fair on him or me, but it's all we can do now."

"Kurt," Schue said, "I don't think you should be telling Finn–"

"Oh god, shut up, Mr. Schue!" Kurt yells. "This is your fault too you know!"

"Dude, I can't just–"

"Oh, it was Puck, okay?"

Everyone stares at Kurt's outburst. He takes in a deep breath. "It was Puck. Look, a couple of weeks ago, Finn told me about Hugo, Puck's mother's boyfriend – they recently moved back in together after an off-again, on-again relationship that's been going on for years. The last time they broke up – about a year ago, apparently – Puck showed up at Finn's doorstep in the middle of the night. He was physically bleeding from Hugo sexually assaulting him, and he then confessed to Finn that Hugo had been abusing him in similar ways for a long time," Kurt sighed deeply. "Finn was just trying to help his best friend, who apparently at this point, is pretending it doesn't matter because he's 'too old'. I probably shouldn't have called you an idiot for it; I'm sorry."

There was an awkward pause. "Mr. Hudson, is this true?" asked Figgins. Finn sighed and slumped back down in the chair.

"Yeah," he said. "Fuck. He's going to _kill_ me."

Schue nodded. "Okay. But how can we be sure this is actually true, and not something Kurt just made up to protect his father?" he asked. "I mean, it is a bit detailed for a lie, and some of Puck's behavior in the past has certainly bothered me as reminiscent of a response to abuse, but we can't be certain..."

Figgins just reached for the small microphone on his desk. "Noah Puckerman, to the principal's office, now."


	9. Help Me

**9: ****HELP ME**

Puck was _already _confused by the time he walked into the office. They didn't find out about Ms. Ashker, the firecrackers and the toilets near the freshmen lockers, right? The fact he saw Finn, Kurt and _their_ parents there as well just made it worse.

"Okay," he said. "What did I do now and which of the old bitches around here do I have to fuck to get out of trouble?"

"That's not funny," Mr. Schue blurted out, a bit too quickly. Puck blinked.

"Dude, it was a joke. Relax," he said. "Like I'd screw any of the women around here anyway. _Ew_."

Yeah, it was a total lie, but he didn't actually want to get anyone fired.

Figgins sighed, drawing his attention. "Mr. Puckerman," he said, "I am very sorry to say, but this is not about anything you _did_. Now please, take a seat."

Puck did so, looking back over his shoulder at Finn, who was standing with his 'family' by the door now. Puck was even more confused. Figgins was talking to him... soft and gentle, sort of. He didn't get it.

"So, uh, are any of you going to tell me what the fuck is going on? Or at least chew me out for swearing in this office place?" he asked. "Seriously, you're all starting to freak me out."

Mr. Schue leaned forward. "Look, Puck, yesterday Finn and I had a talk," he explained. Puck frowned and looked over his shoulder back at Finn, who avoided his eyes and stared at the carpet. "He told me about a friend of his," said Schue, getting Puck's attention back. "He said this friend... him and his mother had recently moved in with her boyfriend, and said boyfriend... was sexually abusing him," Puck does his best not to go wide-eyed. Or kill Finn. _Son of a bitch._ "Admittedly, my first thought was that he was talking about himself in code; hence why they're all here. I still think that's likely. But Kurt just told us that friend was _you_; that Finn had told him about this before," he explained. "So now we have to check with you to see if that's true."

Puck gaped. "Dude, no way," he said, doing his best to sound shocked and confused. "What the hell man?"

Finn, for his part, looked ashamed and kept on being fascinated by the carpet. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

Puck turned back to the teacher and principal, doing his best to seem like he didn't have a clue about anything. "Okay, seriously, _nothing happened_ to me," he said. "Honestly. I don't know..." then he remembered something: _Finn, best friend. If this excuse is gonna fly, you've got to act like you believe Daddy Hummel's got his hands where he shouldn't. React, Puckerzilla._

"Hey, what the fuck were you doing?" he turned around and stared down Hummel Snr., before slowly getting out of his seat. "'Cause the way I see it, if I'm getting used as the excuse than there's something to be _excused. _What the fuck were you doing to my best friend, huh?"

"Puck, stop it," said Kurt, reminding Puck of his existence. "You're too good a liar for me to be okay with this. From the looks on their faces, they're believing you right now, and I'm not letting that happen to my dad."

"I'm sorry, _what_?" Puck did his best outraged voice. "Um, _hello._ You're Daddy Dearest is touching your stepbrother against his will. Do you not have a problem with that? I thought you were like, crazy in love with Finn or something; you'd jump on the opportunity to protect him." He paused, looking for some kind of attack that would be plausible in the situation. "Or does this make you want him around, huh? You're jealous, is that it? You think, if you keep your dad around past this he won't be going after Finn anymore, 'cause that could mean trouble, and he could get all over the _other_ kid in that house just like you've always wa–"

Kurt punched him in the face. _Ow!_ It actually really hurt. If they were in a different situation, Puck'd be a little impressed.

"I feel sorry for you, Puck," said Kurt, which didn't so much mesh with the whole 'punching him in the face' thing. "I do. I know what's going on, and I can understand that you're scared and angry. But I will not let you do this to my family. You're being selfish and you know it; I could _vaguely_ understand you choosing not to talk if it was just you who was in trouble, but it's not anymore. If it ever was. Finn and I need you right now. Other people could get hurt. This is _selfish_, and cut it out already."

"Fuck you," said Puck, and he meant it genuinely too – _you don't get to tell me what I should do about this; it's none of your business._ "You know _exactly_ what's going on, Hummel. And if you think it's fine if you set me up to get your dad out of trouble, and think it's fine to just _let_ this happen to Finn anyway – then I really guess you are just going to tell like everyone says," Kurt couldn't help but flinch at that. Some part of Puck felt smugly victorious – he was winning. "And I'm through. I'm out of here. I don't know anything; once you figure it out, I'll be here to be a decent guy, but apart from that I'm nothing. So _bye_."

He stormed out the door, even as he heard Finn call "Puck, wait!"

* * *

Finn ran out the corridor after Puck, trying to keep up. "Puck, please wait!" he kept calling, not that it seemed to do any good.

Eventually, he landed a hand on Puck's shoulder, and then Puck turned to bat him away. "Don't touch me!"

However, he finally stopped. So Finn took it as his cue. "Look, man, I'm really sorry–"

"Stop, Finn," Puck cut him off. "I _told_ you not to talk about this! 'To the grave', do you remember? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Finn shuffled around uncomfortably. "Technically, _I_ didn't tell them all it was you. I just asked for help like, generically; it all backfired and _Kurt_ spilled."

"And how did he know, huh?" asked Puck. Finn couldn't answer that one. "Fuck it, I _hate_ Hummel. You know that. Plus the dude is a total gossip-slut; why the hell would you think you could trust him with this?"

"Kurt didn't do anything wrong!" Finn yelled. "He kept your secret until he felt he _needed_ to; he was protecting his dad, for christ's sakes."

"So what's your excuse, then?"

"I was scared!" said Finn. "Okay? This is going to be really dumb and stupid and selfish, but I don't _care_. I didn't know what to do, okay? I'm just one guy; I can't deal with this all on my own. I wanted to help you _so bad_, and I couldn't; I didn't know how. And I just wanted someone to do it together with, and he was _there_."

Puck looked skeptical. "Why would you even care? Given everything, I'd expect you to fucking hate me and think I deserved everything I got."

"Dude, have you been paying _any_ attention at all?" Finn asked. "So, there was bad shit once. So what? You're my best friend, man, and... I love you. Not in a gay way. But I really fucking love you, you bastard, so don't you tell me I don't have the right to _freak the fuck out_ about this."

Puck glared at him, but seemed slightly calmer. "I never asked for your help, you know," he grumbled.

"Well, that's because you've kind of been all denial-boy on me."

Puck cracked a smile at them. "I'm not going to say it."

Finn groaned."Really? Please?" he asked. "Because I don't mean to act like I know what's best or whatever, but we're in a _lot_ of trouble. If they don't think you were the one who... They'll think Burt did it to me, and Kurt made that thing with you up to protect his dad. Puck, the guy could end up in jail!" Puck won't look him in the eye. "Burt didn't do anything wrong. Okay, you can hate me all you want, but you are not that much of a dick you'll just let this happen."

Puck stood his ground."You screwed up. It's not by problem," he says casually, and starts walking again.

"What the fuck, man?" Finn grabbed him by the shoulder. "Okay, I'm like Kurt. I get the scared and freaking out and – not wanting to hurt your mom." He flinched when he remembered how badly trying to go around that went. "But please, man. I'm trying really hard to be a good friend about this, but right now I kind of need that back. We have a family thing now, and I don't want to lose that. _Please_, man."

Puck just glared at him. "This isn't about you."

Finn couldn't answer that. Puck was right; it _wasn't_, but... he didn't deserve this; neither did Burt; neither did anyone else in their weird clan.

The staring match was interrupted by Mr. Schue. "Finn? Puck?" he asked. "Could you come back to the office now? Principal Figgins called your mother, Puck... he wants to ask her about all this."

Finn's eyes go wide as he remembers again – trying to tell her, getting kicked out and called a liar. _Shit_. She would have to say what Finn told her, and Puck would kill him even more. If she believed it now...

Then again, she'd have reason to believe him now. She could be a reason for everyone else to believe him. It could help, right?


	10. The Patron Saint of

**10: THE PATRON SAINT OF...**

Puck jumped a little as the door to Figgins' office swung open. It was quiet in there, okay? He wasn't a pussy.

Mom walked in coolly, appraising the (kinda random, admittedly) selection of people there. She sighed. "Noah, what did you do?" she asked. "Why am I here?"

"Ms. Puckerman, your son has not done anything. This time," said Figgins, giving Puck a warning glance. "Please, take a seat."

"Where?" she asked, and immediately Mr. Schue stood up to offer his chair. She took it, sending a look at Puck. He shrugged back at her. He couldn't explain this to her. Okay, someone was probably going to soon, but – as long as he lied, things would be fine. And he had to get his lie on for a second, so he'd rather not be first to explain.

_Be cool,_ he told himself. _It'll be fine._

"So what is this about?" she asked. "Noah?"

"Weird shit," he said flippantly. "Don't ask me."

He vaguely wondered if acting like that would blow his cover. Wasn't he meant to be pissed as all hell for Finn's sake; think he was the one in trouble; want to kill Burt Hummel? Yeah, that thing. Oh well. Hopefully, Mom wouldn't notice.

Puck frowned. Somewhere he knew he was being stupid. Why the hell was he covering for the douchebag who had made his life hell since he was a kid? And why was he letting Finn's stepdad, who was nothing but an awesome guy, pay for it?

No. He wasn't doing it for Hugo, the little son of a bitch. Mom. It was about her. He loved her, but her whole life had been nothing but stress and he knew that – she hadn't exactly done a great job hiding it. Nana had always acted like Mom wasn't good enough; especially not good enough of a Jew, just 'cause she couldn't be bothered eating pork (when Puck's mom told him it was a good idea to do something for their religion, he did it). She'd done her best to take care of him as a kid and now Sarah, but they were damn crazy and she was doing it alone (Puck always did his best to take care of his little sister). And that brought him to the fucker himself, Daddy Dearest who ran out as soon as he got bored, and stranded Mom with this shit. Left her wide open and vulnerable for a creep like Hugo to snare.

Hugo might have been a bastard to him, but at least he had the excuse that he wasn't related to Puck or anything. He had a reason not to care too much about Puck in particular. Dad didn't have that excuse, and really when you went back to it all this shit was his fault.

If he told Mom, she'd freak. She'd go all overprotective on him. She'd feel _guilty_ for letting that douchenozzle into their house, and Puck can't do that to her. She deserves better. The one thing about him, his mom and his sister – they're not always perfect, but they protect each other. It's her protecting him versus him protecting her. She's done enough. It's his turn.

Okay, yeah, it seems unfair to let Burt Hummel carry the can, but – it wasn't like anything that bad was going to happen, right? The cops couldn't do anything to him without some kind of proof, which they wouldn't have because, y'know, it wasn't true. Finn would be able to convince them all of what he knew, so it wouldn't be like Carole would dump Burt or anything... Finn just couldn't prove it, so nothing would happen to Puck. Win-win.

Principal Figgins sighed deeply, looking Mom in the eyes. "Ms. Puckerman, there have been rather severe accusations leveled today. Particularly at your current boyfriend... Hugo Ravirez, I believe his name is?"

"Yes," said Mom. "What accusations?"

"Ms. Puckerman... Mr. Hudson and the younger Mr. Hummel over there," he gestured towards Finn and Kurt, "have accused your partner of... inappropriate behavior towards your son. Sexual abuse, to be specific."

Mom looked back at Finn, some unrecognizable emotion flooding her face. Finn shuffled a bit uncomfortably, but he didn't avoid her gaze. Puck so didn't get it. Then Mom turned back to Figgins. "That's absurd. My boyfriend would never do such a thing."

Figgins sighed. "We know you'd like to believe so, but it is our duty as educators to examine all factors when it comes to a student who may be in that sort of situation."

"Please, sir, look at the context for all this," Mom pleaded. "Both these boys have deep-seated issues with my son. Finn... Noah slept with, impregnated and stole his girlfriend. Kurt... Noah spent a lot of time bullying him. Does it sound entirely implausible that they might collaborate, making this accusation to damage our family for revenge? Now, I am never going to argue that my son is perfect... but he does not deserve that. And my boyfriend, a perfect innocent, certainly does not."

Finn looked mad. Like he was struggling to say something, but before he could, Mr. Schue burst in. "With all due respect, Ms. Puckerman, I'm fairly certain that if Finn and Kurt are lying, that is not why."

Mom blinked. "What do you mean?"

Schue just pursed his lips, and Figgins sighed again. "Ms. Puckerman," Figgins said, drawing her attention back to him, "We are all in this office for a reason. Yesterday, Mr. Schuester came to me informing me of a very disturbing conversation he'd had with one of his students... Finn Hudson. He said Mr. Hudson had reported that a 'friend' was being sexually abused by his mother's boyfriend, who they had recently started to live with, and asked for advice. Mr. Schuester thought this was a veiled reference to Finn himself, being aware of the boy's family situation – also having recently moved in with his mother's boyfriend. We called the family in here to ask, and they denied it. It was Kurt Hummel who said Noah was the friend Finn was referring to, to which Finn agreed. We invited Noah here to ask as well, and he reacted badly to the accusation, but denied it. So we believed we needed to confer with you."

"I know this must be difficult for you, but have you noticed... seen or heard... _anything_ that could make you suspicious of Hugo's conduct towards your son?" Mr. Schue asked. "Anything at all? Please, Ms. Puckerman; we need to know."

Mom shook her head certainly. "I've never heard anything like this before."

"You lying bitch!" burst out Finn, which shocked everyone. "I _told_ you about this, you... and you thought I was lying to get back at him about babygate, and just fine, but you know this happened so don't act like you have no clue."

"Wait, you did _what_?" Puck yelled, standing up to face him. Right now, he didn't even care if he was screwing things up, because... Finn gave him his _word_ not to tell anyone. Especially her. How could he just go back on that?

The anger faded from Finn's face, and he looked... uncomfortable. "Look, man, I'm sorry," he said. "I _knew_ you were gonna be pissed, but... I was scared, and I was worried about you, and I didn't know what to do so _yeah_, I went to her. I expected her to something for you. She kind of didn't, but..."

"Noah, he's lying; sit down," ordered Mom. Puck did so, but saw how damn unfocused her eyes were.

Fuck.

Mom looked back at Figgins. "I can assure you, there is nothing happening to my son. I would never permit that to happen; I _would_ notice. Especially if I was pre-warned, thanks to any circumstance, like Finn over there is claiming – even if I didn't believe him at the time, it would make me paranoid, which I am not. I am inclined to agree with Mr. Schuester about what's going on – this boy has been abused, and is trying to deflect attention. I'm not sure if he's claiming this to try and get everyone to believe him even though he knows it's a lie, or if the trauma has caused him to form delusions, but..."

"You're still lying!" Finn yelled. "You know, when you said all that crap about me being a selfish brat who was making it up, I thought you actually believed that. And it freaked me out because I didn't know what to do to help him if you weren't on my side, but... don't you pretend I'm just crazy! You've got to realize this – if I was making it up back then just to piss him off, there'd be no reason for me to go to Mr. Schue. And I would not bother leaving out my name if I didn't mean..."

"Finn told me about everything the day he confronted Ms. Puckerman," Hummel adds. "He told me how she had denied and disbelieved him. To me, it seemed like it was most likely strong denial – something I am certain of now."

Finn winces. "Puck, dude, help us out."

Puck's head _hurt_. He looked back over his shoulder at Finn. The dude was capable of many things – banging his head on twenty percent of doorways without trying; passing English last year despite spending most of it thinking Tom Robinson was half-bird; probably hitting some higher notes than Puck, 'cause Finn's voice was weirdly high when he sung – but lying was not one of them. And from the look in his eye... Finn couldn't be making this up just to screw with him.

Which had him thinking about his mom. She _knew_. Or at least, she had reason to suspect. Because Finn had told her. And Puck would kick his ass for that later, but... He always thought, if she ever found anything out she'd freak. She'd do anything she could to protect him, and she'd feel bad. So it was up to him to make sure she never found anything out.

But now she'd found something out; she'd abso-fucking-lutely found something out, and... she didn't really seem to care. She wanted to keep pretending it was nothing, even though things must have been sliding into place about now. There would be no reason for him to have that talk with Schue if he was lying to her that time; no reason to have that talk with her if he was lying to Schue that time. And Puck was pretty damn certain Finn wasn't lying to him.

And really, if she had proof now and she still refused to believe it... who said she hadn't had proof all along?

She looked at him with a vaguely irritated, or maybe desperate look. "Puck, please stop listening to them. This is clearly not about us; we're the scapegoat."

"It's true."

Everyone stared when he blurted that out. "Pardon?" asked Figgins.

"You fuckers heard me," said Puck. "It... It started when I was like twelve. He'd touch me and shit. I didn't want to tell Mom 'cause... well, I thought it would fuck with her head. They were always breaking up and getting back together again... He never took it all the way. Then it kind of seemed like they'd broken up for good, and he... did what he hadn't. That was when I told Finn. Then, about a year later they were back together _again_... and he wasn't doing anything, but Finn was freaking out and I guess... I don't know."

Puck was trying really hard not to sound like a weepy little girl, but from the looks on everyone's faces he was kind of failing.

Except Mom. "For god's sakes, Puck, _don't_," she said. "Don't _cover_ for him."

Puck flinched. "Uh, I'm not. That would be really fucking stupid, so... I won't. You don't want to believe me." He swallowed hard. "I always thought you'd been through enough for our sakes. I shouldn't tell you, because of everything it'd take out of you to do this protecting me thing. But right now... you really don't give a fuck, huh?"

"God!" Mom said, standing up out of her chair. "This isn't happening. Hugo is a _good guy_ – I love him. Your father was a bastard of all sorts, but I learned my lesson from that; I would recognize another bad boyfriend and not let him into our house. Stop trying to wreck this for me, Noah!"

That made Puck feel worse on a whole new level, and he couldn't begin to put why into words. Luckily (and weirdly), Kurt went and did it for him. "So, what? Your son's safety is less important than your pride?"

Mom didn't answer that one, and then Hummel Snr. stepped forward, glaring. "Damn straight," he said. "You know, your son just almost got me into a lot of trouble, aiming that accusation when he knew it was a lie. I have good reason to be mad at him. But you know what I see here? I see a scared kid who _finally_ came out with all that happened. And you're his mom; it's your _job_ to deal with it and make him feel okay. So fucking get _over_ yourself!"

"Everyone, settle down!" Figgins calls. "But I agree to an extent. Ms. Puckerman, if this is your reaction to your child confessing to..."

There was an awkward pause as Mom looked around at everyone in the room. Puck wanted to believe the defeated look in her eyes was her accepting what happened – then he could go crazy and feel bad like he'd always expected to. But he knew her too well (she was his mom, after all). That look in her eyes was... pragmatic, he guessed.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It's just..." she bit her lip. "Are you sure, Noah?"

"Well, yeah. It's... kind of hard to remember that one wrong."

She sighed and squeezed his shoulder, just a bit too tight. "Do you want to go home? If that's alright with the school, Principal?"

"Under the circumstances, I believe that would be acceptable," Figgins says.

Puck raised an eyebrow. "Isn't he there?"

Mom shook her head. "Work. We'll... collect his stuff, kick him out. It'll be okay."

"I know that," he said. "But... okay, yeah, whatever."

She sighed and started leading him out of the room. Despite himself, he looked over his shoulder at everyone.

Finn mouthed "Sorry," at him.

Puck wasn't really sure if he ought to be.


	11. What Could Have Been

**11: WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN**

Apparently, him and Kurt didn't get the same opportunity to skip school for the rest of the day as Puck did. Finn was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to pay much attention; like, even less than usual. At least he had double Spanish in the middle of the day. It would be awkward, but Mr. Schue would cut him some slack.

Mom walked with him until he got to the hall outside his Math classroom. "So," he said. "If everyone sees you, they'll like, do something stupid so you should probably – not that I'm ashamed or anything of you, Mom, it's just..."

"It's okay, Finn," Mom said easily, which was a relief. Then she winced, which wasn't. "Finn... you really knew for a year? He snuck into our house in the middle of the night?"

Finn shrugged. "Yeah?"

She sighed. "You could have told me."

"I kind of promised him I wouldn't," he explained. "It mightn't have been my best moment, but... the dude wasn't even there for a year. Then he was and, well, I just kinda didn't know what to do." He paused. "I still kinda feel like I betrayed him."

"Finn, you did the right thing by telling us," Mom told him. "If you hadn't spoken up, Noah wouldn't have gotten help himself. And I'm fairly sure that... _bitch_ wouldn't have done anything herself without someone pressuring her."

"Kurt kind of actually told more than I did," Finn pointed out. "I wouldn't say his name, remember?"

Mom just rolled her eyes and pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry you had to do all this, baby," she said.

He nodded and eventually pulled away. Then a thought hit him. "Hey, is, uh... Burt mad because I got him... um..."

Mom shook her head. "I'd doubt it," she said. She gave another look to the door. "Well..."

Finn nodded. "Yeah. Uh... bye, Mom."

"See you. Call me if you need anything?"

* * *

"Mr. Hummel?"

"Gah!" Burt practically jumped out of his skin. That what happens when people come sneaking up behind you like that.

He turned around saw it was Schuester. _Oh_. "Yeah?" he asked. "What is it?"

Schuester shuffled uncomfortably on his feet. "Look, I wanted to... apologize," he said. "I panicked and jumped to conclusions."

Burt sighed. He would have loved to be pissed at Schuester for everything that happened, don't get him wrong. It's not easy when a man you hardly know and don't particularly like comes up out of nowhere and accused you of doing _that_ to a kid. But he couldn't really blame the guy. Given everything, he kind of thought Schuester had just done the best he could when he thought Finn was in danger. All that proved was the man cared about Burt's stepson, and _did his fucking job_. It's kind of hard to hold that against anyone.

"It's alright. I mean, giving the circumstances I probably woulda done the same thing. 'Sides – if it weren't for all this, pretty sure no-one would have got Puckerman to open up, so..."

Schuester sighed to. "Yeah," he said. "I feel bad for the kid."

Burt shrugged. "Well, yeah," he said – 'cause who wouldn't feel bad for the kid? "Still, least that freak's out of his life _now_."

"Assuming his mother was..."

Burt winced. He wasn't quite ready to consider that possibility yet; that the woman they'd tried so hard to convince was just lying. Not just because honestly, if that boy couldn't stay in his home anymore Burt was pretty sure Puck'd wind up living with them, and he wasn't capable of raising _three_ teenage guys, even if one of them was Kurt.

"Yeah," he said awkwardly. "Well... no grudges held, Schuester. Don't worry."

Schuester nodded, and the two men shook hands. "Anyway, I have a job to go do, so..."

Burt nodded and walked off, to where his wife was waiting next to the car.

* * *

Helen didn't talk to her son much on the way home. She was still trying to get everything into her head, and he didn't really look like he wanted to talk about it anyway.

Once they got home, they stood around awkwardly in front of the stairs. Was he waiting for instructions or something?

She sighed and avoided his eyes. "I'm going to go back up Hugo's things. It'll be easier if we don't have to let him in to get them."

Noah looked a little surprised. "You really are kicking him out?"

"Well, _yes_." She let the 'do I have a choice?' go unsaid.

He flinched a little. "Okay. Not sure why we're even bothering to give that guy his stuff back, but..."

She sighed. "I am _not_ having us dragged into court."

She just hoped he'd get the message – _don't try and press charges and _humiliate_ me._

It sounded callous, but, she reasoned, it's not like he'd ever get a conviction with his history and attitude. She wasn't even sure if she believed it (although obviously, she wasn't allowed to say that – she was a bitch if she _dared_ to believe that her lying, manipulative delinquent son could be lying to and manipulating her, right?)

"...Okay," said Noah. "What are you going to tell Sa–"

"Just shut up, Noah!" she snapped.

He looked at her with the best impression of 'vulnerable' he could do – which wasn't that great, honestly. "Fine," he grumbled. "Just asking."

She sighed. She did not need to deal with him lingering around right now. "Just... go up to your room and do whatever it is you do. I'll go pack."

"You don't want me to help?"

"_No_."

He raised his arms in a 'surrender' pose, and quickly did just what she said – went up to his room. She sighed and made her way towards her own (her _own_).

Five years. Five fucking years on-and-off with this guy, and _now_ she got told he's a child molester. Five fucking years of crying over breakups, stressing over buying gifts, having anniversaries forgotten, getting drunk way too much, and all that cliche _bullshit_ a boyfriend does to you. Because after That Bastard hightailed it and left her with the kids, he was the one guy who stuck around long enough to make her feel like she _wasn't_ a complete failure at life and relationships. Of course, he was probably just sticking around because she gave him a young and unwilling place to stick it (okay, maybe two).

Of course, she still wasn't sure she believed Noah. Why should she have? She knew she'd been hard on him; treated him badly. He thought she thought he was a disappointment. He could have been making it all up so it looked like he had an excuse for being, well, him; it didn't sound all that out of character. Of course, there was Finn fucking Hudson, but that boy would probably cover for Noah, or could be easily tricked. Maybe she should have been kinder, but... he _was_ a disappointment. He got a girl pregnant! She'd never really had high hopes for Noah, and he had met her expectations brilliantly.

It didn't really matter whether she believed him or not, of course. She had to get rid of Hugo – if she didn't, his principal and that teacher and Carole and her boyfriend would panic. They'd go call Child Protective Services, and say Helen wasn't a capable mother. She wouldn't go through that. She'd spent _years_ with those two, on her own, and done as good a fucking job as she could manage. She wouldn't have herself go down as the woman who let her kids be molested because of her abandonment issues. It was the same reason she didn't want Noah taking anything to court.

She practically wanted to scream in frustration, but instead she started throwing shirts and shoes out of the cupboard violently. She had to give up fucking _everything_ in the end.


	12. Perspective

**12: PERSPECTIVE**

Finn arrived home, and immediately ran into Burt in the kitchen. Um. Awkward.

"Uh... hi," he said.

Burt was clearly not following the International Rules of Awkward, because he shrugged in a distinctly non-awkward way. "Hi," he said.

"...Hi."

Burt caught his eye, and then he started following the rules.

Finn shuffled on the spot, shifting weight from one foot to another. He didn't even know how to ask this, but... "Are you mad at me?"

Burt frowned. "About making Schuester think I'd been..." Burt trailed off, and Finn nodded. Burt shook his head. "Nah."

Okay, Finn couldn't quite believe that. "Really? I was kinda an idiot."

"You made a mistake," said Burt, which Finn was pretty sure was the tactful way of saying 'yes, you are an idiot'. "And no, the conversation you had with your teacher – can't have been the smartest decision you've ever made, but, well, you're a kid. A freaked out kid trying to deal with something way to big for you on your own, and doing your best. I mean, you were just trying to protect your best friend; there's not much that could have made me resent you about anything where _that_ was what you were trying."

Finn nodded. It made sense, in a strange, vaguely agist kind of way. "Okay. Cool," He said. "...This is kind of an anticlimax."

Burt shrugged. "Oh well. I think the real climax happened with poor Puck, so..."

Finn cringed a little. "Yeah. It's just... _fuck_, I feel so bad for him, you know? I knew about this for a year, and it doesn't mean... I feel like I didn't do enough to help him before, uh, shit got all complicated again. And then I feel like I went about everything wrong and told too many people... given I did promise to tell like, no-one. So basically, I suck."

"Finn, please stop blaming yourself. You're just making me kind of uncomfortable," said Burt. Finn cocked his head to the side. Huh? "Look, Finn – maybe you could have gone about this better. I don't know. We'll never know; you didn't go about all this a different way. From the looks of things right now, kid... you did get that man out of his house. You're allowed to be proud of that, you know?"

Finn blinked. Okay. It did sort of sound like Burt was praising him for something he should have done anyway and hence didn't really deserve praise for, and it wasn't just him; it was Kurt and a whole bunch of coincidences that kind of happened in his favor, but... "Uh... Thanks, I guess."

Burt nodded. "You're welcome. Even if you don't actually believe me."

They returned to awkward.

"Uh... I think I'm going to go see Puck," said Finn. "He probably needs me – his mom wasn't being so great about the whole thing this morning, you know?"

Burt nodded. "I know. Probably a good idea."

Finn started heading for the door.

"Finn?"

Finn turned back to his stepfather with a confused look. "What?"

"Just... tell him we're all here for him if he needs it, okay? The whole family. I don't trust that woman to help him out through this and he's gonna need a real family to help him right now. So whatever he needs... we're gonna be there."

Oh. Finn felt a slight sense of relief, like some kind of pressure had been lifted from him. He didn't have all Puck's burden on him or something. "Uh... thanks."

* * *

Finn rang the doorbell waited awkwardly at the Puckermans' front door. He wasn't that sure Puck's mom would be pleased to see him. He wasn't that sure _Puck_ would be pleased to see him. He was a little terrified Mrs. P would have been lying about kicking Hugo out, and the dude would be there, waiting for revenge on Finn... and doing whatever he could to get it on Puck.

When the door swung open, it was Ms. Puckerman, which could have been worse and better. "What do _you_ want?" she said. She was red-eyed, and basically looked like she hated the world right now.

This wasn't off to a good start. "Um," he said. "Could I talk to Puck – please, Ms. P?"

There was a pause as she just stared at him angrily. Then he heard Puck's voice. "Mom?"

Mrs. Puckerman looked over her shoulder back at Puck, before giving a frustrated sigh. "Your boyfriend's here," she muttered, brushing past him and leaving him alone with Puck. There was an awkward moment.

"...So, she's not taking this all that well, huh?"

Puck snorted. "Understatement of the century, Hudson," he said. "She's mad at me for everything, I think. Like I took him away from her or something."

Finn stepped inside. "Dude, the guy's a fucking child molester and she's mad because she _lost _him? And she's blaming _you_ for it all? What is _wrong_ with your mom, man?"

Puck shrugged. "She's just nuts like that," he said. "Come on, let's go up to my room."

Puck headed for the stairs and Finn followed him, going up to his room. Puck sat on the bed and Finn sort of lingered standing up.

"So... are you okay?"

Puck shrugged. "Sorta, I guess. I mean, much as I can." Finn winced a little, stepping back. Puck gave him a look. "Dude. Sit, you dumbass."

Fuck. He didn't want Puck thinking he was uncomfortable with everything or anything. "Or, er, sorry," he said, sitting next to Puck. "It's just... I dunno. I thought you might be mad at me."

Puck raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Finn shrugged. "Well, you _did_ make me promise to never tell anyone, like, ever... and I kind of completely ignored that. So you could be pissed about it."

"It was Hummel who brought me into the whole school thing, not you."

"After I told him; that doesn't really work."

Puck shrugged again. "Whatever."

"Plus, I tried to tell your mom before all... that didn't really work out, but given how freaked you were at the idea of her finding out, I possibly shouldn't. But, you know... I expected her to help."

Puck shook a little, and then Finn realized he should _not_ have been reminding Puck of how much his life sucked right now and he should _not_ have been trying to convince Puck to hate him. He was really dumb sometimes. "hey – Hey man, you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you all, uh–"

"It's cool, Hudson, chill," said Puck, even though the look on his face seriously said something else – however, Finn didn't know how to say that without being a douche. So he let it slide. "I guess I just sort of expected her to do that too... and, you know, I wouldn't tell her because I didn't think she deserved all that."

Finn frowned. He couldn't quite remember if Puck had told him that before or not, but... "She totally let you down, huh?"

"I guess it wasn't all her fault."

"...How the fuck could it possibly not be her fault?"

"She has issues!" Puck said, which wasn't really as excuse. "I mean, she's being a crazy bitch about all this, but – you know, with everything she went through that's to That Douchebag... I think I can get her being all clingy over the one guy who kind of kept showing up? I mean, I'm still pissed, but..."

"...Wait, you think this is about your dad?" Finn asked. "'Cause, yeah, it sucks he ran out and everything, but it's not really an excuse for letting your boyfriend molest your son, you know."

"Whatever," said Puck. "Would you stop telling me what to think? I don't need that shit."

Oh, yeah. Even if he thought Puck was being crazy about his mom... it was probably not a good idea to tell him what to do. Oops. "Oh. Uh, sorry."

"It's cool," said Puck. "I mean, you have a point – this shit she's doing can't be good for me."

Finn nods along. "So, uh... do you know what's going to happen now?"

Puck inhaled. "Well, uh, we've kicked Hugo out. He showed up like an hour ago; Mom had his stuff out there and told him to fuck off – yeah, I was kind of worried she wouldn't actually do it too, but... she did. I mean, she's not happy but... Sarah's confused as fuck. I don't wanna tell her what that fucker did to me; don't want her to have to understand that, but – I don't know, she's just freaking. I think she liked him, you know? I feel bad for doing this to her."

Finn cringed. "Dude, you _know_ it's not your fault, right?"

"Yeah, I _know_ Hudson, but still."

Fuck. Finn really didn't have a clue what to do with all this. Then he got thinking, and... "So... Hugo didn't do anything to Sarah?"

"Nah," said Puck. "Believe me, son of a bitch would be full-blown _dead_ if he tried anything with her."

"He should be dead for what he did to you," said Finn, which – he wasn't really planning on saying and it comes out really angry, but he means it all. Because how could someone just do that to Finn's best friend? It's not fair.

"You can try if you like, man; just don't make me come with you. I am totally cool with just pretending the guy doesn't exist."

Finn cringed. Because really, Puck spent ages pretending the guy just didn't exist and Finn spent all that time worrying his head off about how to, well, protect Puck, even if Puck would probably punch him for making him sound like a girl or whatever. Puck was sort of dumb like that. But Finn figured not wouldn't be a good idea to say any of that to Puck's face, so he doesn't. "Well, uh... I guess it's most important you're okay with everything and all. So... no cops?"

"No fucking way, man," says Puck. "They'd never believe me."

"You don't know that."

"I do. Plus, Mom wouldn't take it well – I mean, she was freaked by the idea of having to do something legal 'cause Hugo'd want his stuff but; she'd never let me..."

"You don't have to like, do shit to keep her crazy selfish bull happy or whatever."

"Yeah, but I don't want to do any of that either, so whatever."

Okay, yeah, that sort of made sense. To Finn, he didn't really get why Puck was so dead-seat against actually getting Hugo put behind bars – he wanted the guy to have to pay, and as much as he'd like to, actually killing the guy would also be illegal and Finn had no idea where he was. But, Finn figured Puck would have his reasons for doing what he was doing – and, after all the fucking time he'd been ignored about what he wanted, Finn was not doing that to him again.

He kind of figured something there: he'd never know what Puck was thinking. What this did to him. The trauma and nightmares and issues and everything. Finn didn't really know anything – he wasn't Puck. He just had to do his best.

"Alright," he said. There was an awkward pause. "Listen, dude... if your mom's being weird, you wanna stay with us for a while? I mean, I haven't actually asked anyone about that, but Burt said I should tell you our whole family unit is here for you and everything, so..."

Puck blinked. "...Yeah. Thanks," he said. Finn nodded, and it was all kind of awkward again. "...Okay, this is gonna be the gayest shit ever but fuck it."

And suddenly Puck's hugging him, and Finn hugs him back more on instinct than anything. It's not hard to figure out, though – for all his badassness or whatever, Puck's gone through something horrible and needs Finn to comfort him. Like he did the first time he even told Finn. So Finn does it, and hopes it'll help.

"Thanks," Puck mutters.

Finn's not entirely sure what he mean, but he says "You're welcome," anyway. "Love you, bro."

It really is the gayest shit ever. "Love ya too, you pussy," says Puck, before pulling back.

"Come on, lets get out of here," says Finn. He stands up and Puck follows him out.

"You know, he didn't really do anything this time," Puck says when they're half-way down the stairs.

Finn frowns. "But you're still glad he's gone, right?"

"Well, yeah," says Puck, and – okay, that was kind of obvious. "Thanks. You know, for helping."

Finn knows he can't take credit, but he's just glad Puck feels better now.


End file.
